The Lonely One
by blondie7
Summary: When all she's ever wanted can't be given to her, can she forget the dreams she's always had and settle for what comes? Or will she follow her heart to the depths of desperation and true love?
1. The Chill

Taurwen glanced behind her once before continuing quickly on her way. The sky swallowed up any hope of stars, casting the inky stain of night across the land. She wrapped her thin cloak tighter and lowered her head to the wind that had begun to blow. She shivered and watched her feet kick the pebbles and stones as she hurried down the path. She was close to Inn, and she knew that she shouldn't be scaring herself so much these days. She had walked this very same path many times before, at all times of day. It had never frightened her before, or caused her to glance over her shoulder worriedly and peer into the unseen depths. But lately there had been a damp feeling of fear and darkness that had seeped into all the cracks of the town of Mullbrook and caused goose bumps to remained permanently raised on her skin. She strained her slightly pointed ears to take in any foreign sound, any sign of a pursuer. She knew she was just frightening herself, but she couldn't help it.  
  
There had even been talk of the past when such feelings and gloom had ruled before, but these things were generally dismissed and the gloom regularly blamed on the weather. But Taurwen had never felt such dark spirits and forboding notions. She tried vainly to ignore them, as all there was to do was wait. She had been alive only 20 years, a mere infant in the eyes of the elves but a young woman in human years. She had often wondered how long she would live, given that she was half elven and half human. Would she live to see this unspeakable horror? She felt a shudder rip through her spine again and began to run the last few yards to the Inn door.  
  
The Silver Pint Inn had been her home since she could remember. Rufus had treated her like his own daughter, and when he had died he had left her in the care of his niece Kristance. Taurwen (or Taury as they knew her) worked as a bar maid and Inn servant, and lived in a room above the pub. Because of her striking beauty, she was hassled often by the male clients to give them a bit more than lager and wine. They saw her as a delicate, almost frighteningly attractive creature. Not many besides those that worked with Taury in the Inn knew that she was a peredhel, or half-elf. Her mother had been an elf (Taury didn't know which kind, and probably never would) who had met and loved a soldier of Gondor. They had had a kind of love that Taury couldn't even dream about, a love that surpassed all boundaries of passion and depth, a love that was now only a memory. After Taurwen had been born, they had moved here to the outskirts of Minas Tirith.  
  
Taury could still remember the last day she had seen her mother. Taury had only been ten years old, with an unruly mop of chocolate curls. Her mother had looked worried, with a faraway shimmer in her gray eyes. They had been outside picking marigolds for her father's welcome home gift when the soldier rode up. Taury remembered how she had at first rushed to him, and taken him in her little arms, thinking her Papa was home. But the man had only stiffened and Taury remembered being horrified that the man she was embracing was not her strong father with his raspy chin and blue eyes. Her mother had stood there, the flowers gently tumbling from her long fingers. She had known long before Taury had, that Papa wasn't coming home. Her mother's eyes had filled like pools of melted silver, gently spilling over her smooth cheek. She had simply nodded, not taking the sword offered to her, the weapon of her slain lover. She had turned from Taurwen and the soldier, who looked down at the confused child before gently pressing the heavy object into her fingers. He had leapt onto his horse and ridden away, like a demon had been on his heels. Taury had stood there, watching him leave and fingering her father's sword, salty tears flowing. Where was Papa? She had dropped it then, watched it clatter on the ground, before turning and flying after her mother. Her mother had been inside their small cottage, packing things into a bundle. She had turned stone faced to Taury and told her that everything would be alright. They had ridden to a small Inn a few towns away, The Silver Pint, near the forests skirting Gondor. Her mother had folded the bundle into Taury's arms and with a kiss on her forehead, she had left her. Taurwen had stood there for hours, even after night had fallen, certain that her mother was returning for her. The old innkeeper, Rufus, had tried to coaxe the forlorn child inside but to no avail. He had returned the next morning to find the beautiful child huddled in a small ball on the cold ground, trembling uncontrollably. The once dark, shiny ringlets of hair had straightened to a pale gold, and the child would not speak for days.  
  
The Inn had been her home since. She never heard from her mother again, nor had she ever seen another elf. She knew in her heart that her mother had left her only daughter to flee back to her own people and die. But everytime after she saw marigolds, she gathered some and kept them in great quantities in her quarters. She would sit at the window on her free time, gently caressing the soft petals of the flower, keen eyes still searching the forest for the return of her mother.  
  
  
  
Taurwen shut and bolted the door behind her. She took off her cloak and moved closer to the fire. A slumbering Kristance sat in the large easy- chair by the fire, softly snoring. She always waited up for Taury to come back from her long walks in the forest, and always ended up falling asleep. Taury gently covered the sleeping woman with a blanket before kissing her on the forehead and heading up to her room.  
  
  
  
| | |Please review!!! I promise that if you review, I will….um….OH!| |I'll give each and everyone one of you free hair barrettes!!! | |YEAH!!! (I work in a little children's clothes store, and we | |have lotsa hair doo-dads). So review!!! PLEASE. | |3 blondie |  
  
(disclaimer- doodads only for those special reviewers that live within a fifty mile radius of me cuz I got no kachinkage) 


	2. The Gaze

Taurwen was awakened by the sound of raised voices coming from downstairs. The sunlight was streaming in through the window, bringing with it the restless noises of many tethered horses below her window. She threw off the quilts on her bed and slipped her cold feet into the soft slippers beside her bed. She yawned and decided to see what the commotion was. She moved to the window and saw that there were many horses with the regal blue and silver colors of the Tower Guard. She tilted her head. Someone important must be downstairs. She dressed quickly in her everyday dress of simple bone-colored cotton and combed out her long, shiny hair. It was the only part of her elven blood that she displayed outright, and she didn't like to hide it. She stared for a moment at her reflection. She let a small hand wander to her face, lightly brushing across the smooth cheeks and straight nose. She looked so much like her mother. The same bright eyes and dark lashes, except that her mothers had been a brilliant green and her own were a murky hazel. She tried to search for some piece of her father's face in her own, but she could only see him in her swollen lower lip. She remembered that when he had smiled, his upper lip all but vanished, leaving his lower lip to seem as though he was always pouting. She shook her head of the memories and realized that Kristance would need her sooner than later judging by the amount of horses she had counted.  
  
As soon as she emerged into the common room, Kristance pointed her to the kitchen, begging her to take over cooking duties. She spent the better part of the morning over steaming pots of beef stew and crusty loaves of bread. She was dying to know who was staying at the Inn, and why they had been arguing. Finally she snuck away and hid herself in the corner of the bar/common room, searching the room with curious eyes.  
  
Along with the regulars, there was a company of about twenty Minas Tirith soldiers scattered about the room, huddled in groups over pints. She watched quietly as they talked and laughed loudly, clashing cups pounding on the tables.  
  
Suddenly, she sucked in her breath-her hazel eyes had met a pair of dark brown ones, staring straight back at her. She lifted them slowly, gaze never breaking. He was a tall man, with darkish hair and piercing brown eyes. He had a dark look about him, not a bad look, but a look of power and passion. He watching her intently, and when she looked away she could still feel his gaze boring into her. She heard a man call him, and he turned away to answer. "Boromir, we must decide what to do…" She heard no more than that, but it was enough. His name was Boromir. At that moment someone grabbed her arm from behind and she felt her heart leap.  
  
"Taurwen! I need you out there, what are you doing over here hiding? Get back to the kitchen, girl!" Kristance was shaking her head at the young maid, pointing to the kitchen door. Taury nodded quickly and hurried towards the door. She glance back to the man just once, to see him watching her again. She felt a chill run down her spine and she breathed a sigh as she entered the security of the kitchen. Something in the way he watched her made her breath come in short gasps and her insides constrict. He seemed able to tear her insides apart with just the power of his gaze. She went back to fixing supper and tried to push Boromir and his un-nerving gaze out of her thoughts.  
  
She had only been working for a few moments when Kristance's daughter Lubelle burst into the kitchen and sunk into the chair, closing her eyes, exhausted. "Taury will you please take my duties as bar maid for a while? I can't be on my feet for one minute longer or I will faint." Taurwen nodded.  
  
"Thanks Taury, the table by the back needs a new round of ale." Taurwen took the apron handed to her and grabbed as many mugs of ale as she could grasp. With the white foam spilling over, she hurried out into the foray. She squeezed as best she could through the men and tables, finally reaching the table that Lubelle had mentioned. It was his table. She bit her lip and hoped that he hadn't noticed her yet.  
  
"Ahh there she is. A new barmaid, eh? And a pretty one at that." A man sitting next to the one who had spoken to Boromir earlier eyed her with a predatory glint. She smiled coolly and set the ale down. "There you go sirs, fresh mugs of ale for you."  
  
"Oh, and can we coax nothing else out of you but ale?" The same man who had spoken before snickered and smiled crudely at her. The man sitting next to him looked embarrassed. Without changing her expression she turned to leave, when she felt a cool hand grab her wrist. Her first instinct was to wrench it free, but she knew without turning who had grabbed her. Slowly she faced him.  
  
"Milady please excuse my comrade for his rude comments. He is harmless I assure you." His voice was slick and deep, and she was convinced that by "harmless" he meant "I could kill him". He was staring straight up into her eyes with the same disconcerting power, and it took her a minute to focus.  
  
"Oh sir it's already been forgiven. I've worked as a barmaid for long enough to know how to take care of myself." Without releasing his gaze he dropped her wrist gently and nodded. 


End file.
